


Slow Movements

by verushka70



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 12:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5497685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verushka70/pseuds/verushka70
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Incremental moves toward each other result in surprises for all concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Movements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [look_turtles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/look_turtles/gifts).



> I am indebted to [Mific](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/) and [Ride_Forever](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride_Forever/pseuds/Ride_Forever) for their beta skills. It would not be what it is without them!

"I'm telling you, they're natural enemies, Fraser," Ray grumbled from the couch, watching Dief walk over to Turtle's tank.

Turtle spied a furry creature beyond the glass. He warily cocked his head and eye at it, but the fresh, succulent scent of greens was more interesting and far more enticing. The furry creature outside the glass was not a threat. Turtle bit at his kale and munched it, eying the furry animal that periodically approached and moved away.

The glass between Dief and the hard-shelled creature was no great obstacle, but Dief was not much interested in eating leaves, no matter how fresh. He glanced dubiously at the two men sitting at opposite ends of the couch. They watched the flat box with moving figures and vocalized with each other, but not at alarming volumes or vibrations. There were no physical motions indicating posturing or threats, not even those he'd observed when the lean, light-haired man was frustrated, which was frequently. Dief looked over hopefully, but their calm positions and lack of action indicated no food was forthcoming.

"Fraser, he's gonna attack Turtle. Look at him. He's got his eye on him already. Probably for Turtle soup," Ray complained, glancing at the half-wolf who paced across the living room to the turtle tank and then back to the couch and coffee table.

"Aside from the fact that Dief lacks the opposable thumbs necessary for cooking, Ray, I'm fairly certain he's only curious at this point," Fraser replied.

"They're enemies, Frase," Ray muttered. "Natural enemies."

"Even in areas where wolf and turtle habitat overlap, I don't think turtles have ever been the natural prey of wolves," Fraser pointed out.

Dief walked back and stared warily into the glass tank at the turtle moving slowly inside it. There was something bird-like about its head movements. He sighed, yawned, and sat down. Standing on his hind legs, Dief could have easily reached into the tank and the hard-shelled creature didn't appear capable of mounting any serious defense of its food. But it did not eat meat. Or donuts.

"But Dief isn't a natural wolf," Ray argued. "He's a convenience-food-eating, snack-snatching domesticated wolf."

"Half-wolf. And he would be utterly dismayed to hear himself described as 'domesticated' although it is mostly true – he's become terribly habituated to urban human environments and conveniences," Fraser admitted. "Largely due to humans who indulge his pathetic and transparent efforts to appear half starved and utterly deprived." He glanced significantly at Ray.

Dief flicked an ear back towards the humans. That was definitely a _tone_ – not a dangerous tone or vibration that required addressing, but with a certain emphasis that Dief decided to monitor.

"And he's deaf, which probably expands what he's willing to think of as food," Ray added, oblivious to Fraser's look.

Fraser sighed. "Highly doubtful, Ray. Wolves, for all the complexity of their social groups, are fairly simply organized creatures – and are perhaps in those respects not unlike humans. Food, shelter, and mating are the main drives of most creatures on the planet. Including turtles."

"Simply organized," Ray scowled. "We'll see."

Dief sighed once more and lay down on the floor between the coffee table and the turtle tank. This way, if another human arrived to bring food – which sometimes happened when the two men were watching the box with small moving people – he was well positioned to get to it before the gray creature with the hard shell and bird-like movements.

Turtle cocked his eye at the men folded into their large squishy rock, and then at the fluffy gray animal settled halfway between his tank and the men. After a moment, he dismissed them all and went back to the fresh, luscious kale in his bowl.

~ ~ ~

The furry creature pressed its nose near the glass, but it seemed to be just observing. Turtle ignored it and waited expectantly, seeing his usual food-provider approaching. The man-creature sprinkled pellets into Turtle's food bowl. Turtle stretched his legs and stood, the scent getting the better of him.

"I'm just saying, it's not natural," Ray said unhappily. "Look at this. He's unnaturally attracted to a _turtle_."

"I'm sure he means no harm, Ray," Fraser replied.

The scent of the pellets intrigued Dief. They didn't smell as good as bacon or donuts, but a closer sniff was warranted. He stood on his hind legs, looking down into Turtle's tank and snuffling around with interest.

"Hey, Dief! Dief!" Ray yelled, waving his arms.

Dief glanced up at him, but the flailing of the frequent snack-giver seemed unlikely to escalate into anything either dangerous or food-bearing. He continued to sniff curiously at Turtle's food dish.

"You'll recall he's deaf, Ray," Fraser said dryly.

"See what I mean? He's after Turtle's food! This wolf will eat anything!" Ray complained.

Dief noted no threatening vibrations coming from either human.

Turtle cocked his head and eyed Dief a moment, then marched right over to his food bowl.

"I think Dief's just curious, Ray," Fraser reassured. "He's unused to reptiles, but I'm sure turtle pellets are no match for pizza."

Turtle paused, noting the furry creature was now much closer above him. A faceless pink thing lolled out, surrounded at the root by sharp, shiny white things. Where was the creature's face? Oh, perhaps – perhaps that _was_ the face. Turtle snapped his beak a few times in its general direction.

Dief pulled his head back, still standing with his paws on the rim of Turtle's tank, sniffing carefully but from a safe distance.

"Apparently, Turtle is perfectly capable of defending his food, Ray," Fraser said.

"I don't like it, Fraser. Dief has bad intentions."

Ray sighed, reaching into his jacket. Diefenbaker caught the motion, pleased to see Ray pull out his folding talk-box which summoned other people to bring food. He wagged his tail and barked, dropping down to all fours from Turtle's tank.

Fraser nodded at Dief's eagerness. "Nonsense, Ray. Dief clearly prefers his food delivered."

"I'm calling Hong Min's," Ray said, adding, "Yeah, but with no delivery, who knows what he'd do?" He spoke into the phone. "Order for delivery. Uh, one C20, one B10, and two number 13 appetizers. You got that?" He paused. "Ray K– Vecchio."

Dief positioned himself hopefully between the turtle tank and the front door.

Turtle eyed all of them for a moment, but then the tall red one, as well as his food-provider and the furry quadruped, moved away from his tank and from his food. For the moment they required nothing more than monitoring.

~ ~ ~

Fraser took something from his pocket and approached Turtle's tank.

"What is that?" Ray asked suspiciously.

"It's a cuttle bone. I took the liberty of reading up on turtles and tortoises, and apparently the calcium from cuttle bones is good for them," Fraser explained, placing the cuttlebone in Turtle's food dish.

Turtle quickly caught the scent, stretched his legs, and marched over to it. He eyed it and then snapped at it with his beak.

Dief stood, nose to the glass, nostrils flared, scenting the white thing in the hard-shelled creature's bowl. The scent brought a vague memory to mind of cold salty ocean. Dief shook himself to dispel it and flared his nostrils at the tank again. It smelled of warm rocks and the disappointingly bland scent of wet leaves.

"Look at him. My turtle looks rabid now," Ray complained. "His lips are milky."

"Rabid animals froth at the mouth. Turtle is not frothing," Fraser replied firmly. "His mouth is powdery. He seems to like it, though. Perhaps he was in need of calcium."

Ray picked up the turtle-food container and read the label. "This says it _has_ calcium."

"Well, perhaps not as much, or not as palatable," Fraser suggested.

Dief felt the humans' garbled exchange above him, but food did not appear to be forthcoming and the small folding talk box was not taken out again to summon it. He yawned and went back to watching the hard-shelled creature snap off small bites of the hard white salt-cold-ocean thing with his sharp beak. The white thing didn't tempt Dief in the least, but the creature seemed to like it.

Ray sighed. "Of _course_ you find a way to take care of my turtle better than me."

Fraser stood close beside Ray as they looked down into Turtle's tank, rather dismayed that his gift hadn't had the intended effect.

"Ray, your turtle comes out whenever you approach," he pointed out carefully. "You've got a wonderful terrarium for him here, with a full-spectrum bulb to keep him warm, and you feed him high quality food in addition to fresh fruit and greens daily or every other day. I think you're an excellent turtle owner."

"You think?" Ray asked hopefully.

"I certainly do."

"I mean, you know, he's made it this far," Ray observed. "Since . . . you know, when me and Stella split. And he's bigger, now. A lot bigger."

"He's a healthy turtle, Ray," Fraser agreed, relieved.

"Yeah. I knew I wouldn't be home enough to have a high maintenance pet like, well, like Dief. After . . . we split . . . I just, I worked a lot."

"Dief is actually surprisingly low-maintenance compared to many dogs," Fraser said. "But you have a point about the long hours."

Diefenbaker flicked his ears back towards the garbled human sounds, but nothing particularly good or bad seemed associated with them, so he pointed his ears forward again, feeling the vibrations of the hard-shelled creature biting and gnawing the hard white thing in its dish.

"Yeah," Ray said. "You have to walk a dog, and with me not being home most of the time, I just didn't think it'd be fair to a dog. But Turtle, he doesn't mind." Ray threw an arm over Fraser's shoulders and they stood there a moment, Fraser's stiffness slowly loosening under Ray's arm. "Thanks," Ray said. "For the cuttlefish. Bone. Whatever."

"You're welcome," Fraser said, blushing.

Turtle and Dief both cocked their heads at the two human creatures. The warmth radiating from the face of the red one was noticeable to both of them, but it didn't seem to indicate danger. Both animals scented an unfamiliar but not fear-inducing pheromone.

Turtle eyed the furry one through the glass, but it seemed to have no intention but observation. Turtle gnawed off another piece of hard white food contentedly. When his usual food-provider pulled the small talk-box out, the furry one turned away from Turtle's tank and moved his tail rapidly from side to side.

After a while Turtle observed that both tall creatures sat closer together than before on their large soft rock. The furry creature sat expectantly in front of them until Turtle's food provider gave it a plate of food. The furry creature lapped happily at it. It smelled repugnant, but Turtle wasn't bothered. He had so much to choose from in his tank.

"You gonna sleep on the couch later?" Ray asked.

"Oh, Ray, you don't have to–"

"Done. No worries, Fraser. Mi couch es su couch."

"Thank you, Ray. . ."

~ ~ ~

"Did you just put sliced strawberries in my turtle's food dish?" Ray asked from his sprawled position on the couch.

Turtle turned his head at the novel smell from something placed in his tank by the tall red human. His usual food-provider watched the box with moving figures on it. Turtle waited a moment, then stretched his legs out to stand and headed in the direction of the new scent.

"Well, yes, Ray," Fraser said, washing his hands in the kitchen sink. "I thought a little variety in fruit, other than apples, might appeal to him."

"You've been reading more on turtles, right?" Ray sighed. "You're giving me a turtle owner inferiority complex."

"I'm sorry, Ray. I was just trying to . . ." Fraser trailed off as he moved into the living room.

"I know. And it's nice, Fraser, that you think of Turtle." Ray scrubbed a hand over his face and then ran it through his spikes of hair.

"Well," Fraser offered, "you always think of Dief. Lucky for him, you seem to think of him in the way he thinks of himself, especially as regards snack foods." He shot a pointed look at Diefenbaker, who lay on the floor at Ray's feet looking up at both of them hopefully.

"Good thing we ate before coming back here. I can feel the food coma coming on already–" Ray yawned. "At least it's still warm enough to leave the window open."

"It's only so Diefenbaker can leave by the fire escape if he has to. If it gets too cool in here, have you got a blanket?" Fraser asked.

"Guess it might cool off after it gets dark," Ray mused. "Check the closet next to the bathroom. Extra sheets and blankets are in there."

Turtle felt a slightly cooler breeze and turned the cooler side of his body towards the bright warm light in his tank.

Diefenbaker leaped up into a chair and curled up, watching the two men.

Fraser came back with a blanket and set it on the arm of the couch. "Well, my uniform is wool. I'll be warm enough."

Ray glanced up at him. "But we're off the clock, Frase," he pointed out. "You're going to take it off, right? I mean, you aren't going to sleep in it, are you? I have . . . sweats . . . a T-shirt . . ."

Diefenbaker noted the change in air temperature between the two men first. Turtle felt the currents of warmth when the window breeze carried them to him.

"Of course," Fraser replied nervously.

He smelled excited to Dief, who noticed a subtly different vibration to his human companion's voice. Dief felt more than heard the ripping sound of the collar of his companion's jacket being opened.

Fraser walked to the closet near the front door to hang up his uniform jacket. When he returned to the couch, he sat closer to the middle than the end.

Ray shifted on the couch, moving nearer.

"Are you cold now, Ray?" Fraser asked nervously.

"A little," Ray said, looking sideways, and reaching for the blanket.

Fraser took it from the arm of the couch, unfolded it and handed it to Ray.

"You cold, too?" Ray asked, not quite looking at Fraser from beneath his lashes.

"A bit." Fraser's voice was tight.

"We can share it, then," Ray murmured, tossing one side of the blanket to Fraser and sliding closer.

Dief lifted his head briefly, watching the two men resettle on the couch much closer together.

"This is nice," Ray said, toeing off his shoes and putting his stockinged feet up on the coffee table. He tugged the blanket up over his chest and leaned closer to Fraser.

"Very nice," Fraser murmured, his voice cracking a little.

Turtle noticed a new scent from the two men as it wafted over his tank. He looked over at the furry animal, who sniffed the air and tossed his head slightly. Turtle bobbed his head once in return.

Dief curled up in the chair to doze.

~ ~ ~

Turtle woke from sleep when he sensed an even cooler breeze. He also smelled strawberry again, so he moved into the safe, warm cone of light in his tank, which also happened to take him nearer the sliced strawberry in his food bowl. He nibbled at the irresistible food. The cool breeze was less here, so he stood in the warmth of the lamp, which seemed to be the only light in the room.

"What the– oh, no! Fraser, wake up!" Ray yanked his hands up and Fraser's came with them.

"Ray – why can't I–"

"We're tied up – tied together. Oh my God, my turntable and receiver are gone!"

Diefenbaker was gone, the window was wide open, and Ray's turntable and receiver were missing, cords and connectors dangling.

"Wait, Ray," Fraser hissed in a whisper. "Dief would never have opened the window that wide, and I hear someone outside on the fire escape. Pretend we're still asleep."

"Call Dief!" Ray urged quietly as the scraping on the fire escape became louder and closer.

"As you know, he's deaf," Fraser growled.

"For the love of God, Fraser, get him!" Ray hissed. "This equipment can not be replaced at any price!"

Both of them struggled in their bonds as a stranger with shaggy hair came through the window.

"Damn, I thought you were going to sleep through it," the shaggy man said. "Well, doesn't matter. Good luck getting out of those."

He went straight over to Ray's remaining stereo equipment and knelt to disconnect the CD player and a double cassette deck.

"You don't want to do that, buddy," Ray growled.

"I must agree, sir," Fraser added. "Kindly unhand the stereo equipment and untie us, and you will receive fair treatment." He attempted to stand, which yanked Ray half up from the couch. "Ray, we appear to be–"

"You're tied together," the shaggy-haired man said without looking back at them. "At the feet and wrists. Pretty good knots. They're a hobby."

"You're going to be so fucking sorry–" Ray snarled.

Fraser pulled with his tied wrists and helped Ray up. But when Fraser took a step, he nearly fell forward onto the coffee table.

"You're both also tied to the couch leg," the shaggy guy added, still not looking around.

"Damn it!" Ray shouted.

"Ray, let's sit down and work on these knots," Fraser said, his voice strangely matter-of-fact. "We can't do much until we free ourselves." He sat down, pulling Ray with him.

"Good luck with that," the thief chuckled. As he fiddled with the connectors and slowly slid the CD player out of the shelving unit, a shadow appeared in the window, and then Diefenbaker's head appeared.

"Dief–" Ray yelped before Fraser elbowed him, hard. "What?" he whispered.

"I'm right here, you know," the thief pointed out. "What's 'deef'?"

"Diefenbaker is a lake in Canada," Fraser half-fibbed calmly, "commonly used as a curse word."

He nodded at Diefenbaker, who slipped quietly through the window without so much as his claws clacking on the floor. He circled around to the other side of the living room, unseen by the thief.

"You guys Canadian? Wow, that must be why you're so calm and reasonable about being robbed. But I want you to know, I'm a nonviolent offender. My rap sheet is loaded with nonviolent offenses like burglary, theft of property, possession of stolen property . . ."

Turtle's curiosity got the better of him when he saw the furry creature approach his tank. He moved towards the glass as the furry creature stood up and leaned his strange face into it. Hot breath from the furry creature wafted over him and the next thing Turtle knew, his feet were no longer on the gravel in his tank but were flying through the air. He moved his legs experimentally, but there was no purchase to be gained.

"Usually I try to do it when no one is home," the thief continued, "but you two didn't even wake up when I came through the window. Look, I didn't even touch your gun, right out in the open on the table there. And that's against the law within the Chicago city limits. Handguns, I mean."

Fraser picked at and loosened one of the knots tying his and Ray's wrists together. Ray yanked his wrists back until Fraser elbowed him and hissed, "I need slack, Ray."

The thief slid the CD player out of the stereo rack and set it carefully on the floor.

"I'm glad to see the caution with which you handle the stereo equipment," Fraser said in a deceptively normal voice.

"Well, yeah, it's no use if you break it," the thief agreed.

"There better not be a scratch on my stereo equipment!" Ray snapped.

He and Fraser continued to struggle with the knots of the rope tying their wrists. Ray looked up and saw Dief pick up Turtle from his tank. He opened his mouth in surprise, but then shut it before he could speak and elbowed Fraser hard. They both paused and watched Diefenbaker take Turtle out of his tank and set him quietly on the floor, pointed in the direction of the thief. Ray looked back down at their wrists and realized Fraser had freed them from each other, though each of their wrists were still bound.

"Why? It's not like you'll ever see it again," the shaggy-haired thief said. He stared at the stereo rack. "These speakers are going to be a problem," he muttered. "They're kind of big."

Turtle surveyed the living room and observed the third human, whose hands were on the boxes that made delightful sounds that Turtle found mostly soothing except on some occasions when they produced the sound of rocks scraping against each other. Turtle decided he didn't like the smell of this third human. He headed towards the man.

The thief didn't see Turtle headed for the bare skin of his ankle between his sock-less sneakers and the bottom of his jeans. He also didn't see Dief circle back the way he'd come, hugging the walls of the living room, outside the dim light cast by Turtle's tank lamp.

"Fraser, are they–" Ray began, before Fraser elbowed him.

"Let's focus, Ray," Fraser gritted, his fingers slowly loosening a knot at their ankles. That freed his and Ray's ankles from each other. He began picking at the knot attaching them to the leg of the couch–

"Ow!" the thief shrieked. He jumped back and fell, landing on his ass. "What the–is that a _turtle_?!"

Turtle came for him again, nipping at the toe of his sneaker.

"Go, Turtle, go!" Ray yelled, as Fraser's fingers loosened the other knot at their ankles.

The thief yelped as Turtle's beak closed on the toe of his sneaker. He kicked Turtle away, and scrambled away onto all fours, only to be met by a growling wolf with raised hackles.

"Jesus Christ! It's a fuckin' menagerie in here!"

Turtle, undeterred and on his feet, marched back across the carpet towards the thief.

"Ray," Fraser panted. "I've got the–"

His wrists finally loose and his ankle freed from both Fraser's ankle and the leg of the couch, Ray lunged at the thief.

Dief barked excitedly, gnashing his teeth dramatically. The thief shrank back as best he could with Ray on top of him. Turtle kept coming for his sneakers and found purchase again at the bared ankle flesh.

"Ow! Jesus! I said I was nonviolent!"

"You just made the colossal mistake of robbing a cop!" Ray out-shouted him, yanking the thief's arms up behind his back. "Fraser, my cuffs!"

Fraser, his wrists still tied together, tossed the cuffs to Ray. But having thrown them with both hands, he overshot and the cuffs slid across the floor past Ray, still struggling on top of the thief.

"An attack turtle!" Ray's voice was grim yet gleeful. "You, dirt-bag, you're under arrest for home invasion and theft of property."

"The window was open!" The thief argued as he struggled in Ray's grip.

"You have the right to remain silent," Ray continued. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?"

Dief picked up the cuffs in his mouth and brought them to Ray, dropping them where Ray's hands held the thief's hands behind his back.

"Hey, hey," the thief said thickly. "My throat–it's getting hard to breathe . . ." Turtle nipped his ankle again and he yelped.

"Yeah, that's just me sitting on top of you," Ray growled. "And maybe salmonella from my attack turtle!"

"Actually, Ray," Fraser said, his ankles and wrists completely freed now, "he could be having an allergic reaction. Turn him over, please."

"To what?" Ray cuffed the thief's wrists and then hauled him over onto his back. "Huh, he don't look so good, Frase. His face is kind of puffy. Did he look like that before?"

The thief made a strangled sound as Fraser knelt over him. "I think he _is_ having an allergic reaction, Ray."

"Can you really be allergic to turtles?" Ray asked.

"To what are you allergic?" Fraser asked the thief.

The thief whispered through swollen lips. "Tomatoes. . . strawberries. . ."

"Oh, dear," Fraser sighed. "Ray, your phone. Call 911. This man is having an allergic reaction to the strawberries your turtle ate before biting him."

"I'm going to sue," the thief whispered.

"Good luck with that," Ray snapped, pulling out his phone.

Dief barked happily to see the food -summoning talk-box brought out and Ray speaking into it.

"Yeah, we need a bus. . ." Ray began telling the dispatcher. "This is Detective Ray K– Vecchio. . ."

"Diefenbaker, please stand aside," Fraser said, looking Dief in the face and enunciating carefully. "And put Turtle back in his tank, please."

Diefenbaker was not unfamiliar with the human ritual of requiring him to perform certain acts prior to getting treats. He carefully used his mouth, lips soft over his teeth, and picked Turtle up from where he menaced the thief's ankles. He trotted back to Turtle's tank, as Turtle vainly kicked his feet in the air, and stood on his hind legs to deposit Turtle gently back inside.

Turtle felt the familiar gravel under his feet and smelled all the familiar scents of his tank. It had all happened so fast. Dief settled back down on all fours, but he peered at Turtle through the tank for a moment before turning away. Turtle stood at the glass, watching the furry quadruped trot excitedly around the room while the two men examined the third human. In a few short minutes, several more humans came into the room in a flurry of activity.

~ ~ ~

"Well, that was exciting," Fraser said, shutting the front door.

Dief sulked in the chair.

"What's wrong with him?" Ray gestured at Dief.

"I'm not sure," Fraser said, passing a thumbnail across his eyebrow. "Possibly he expected food rather than paramedics and police when you made the 911 telephone call."

"Oh," Ray shrugged. "Well, we can fix that. . ."

He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "I've got leftover orange chicken. He won't care if it's cold, will he?"

"Ray, that's really not–"

"It's totally necessary, Fraser. That wolf and my turtle saved my stereo equipment," Ray took a carton of food out of the fridge and opened it. Dief immediately jumped down from the chair and trotted to the kitchen to press against Ray's legs, wagging his tail. "Good dog! You want this?" Ray said, and set the carton down on the kitchen floor.

Dief's strong tongue lapped up the food and moved the carton across the floor as Ray came back to the living room. He paused at Turtle's tank. "Good turtle!" he said. "I have an attack turtle, Fraser. How cool is that?"

"That's 'very cool' indeed," Fraser agreed, standing in the living room.

"And Dief and Turtle are a crime fighting team. That's even cooler! Who would've guessed. I thought they were natural enemies, for sure." Ray looked around. "Want to help me reassemble everything?" he asked hopefully, nodding at the recovered receiver, turntable, CD player and cassette deck stacked on the floor by the coffee table.

"Certainly," Fraser replied. "Just let me–"

He went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out a small dish with sliced strawberries. He carried it to Turtle's tank and put a few more sliced strawberries in Turtle's food bowl before taking it back to the kitchen to put away. He washed his hands and returned to the living room, kneeling beside Ray as Ray began to slide the equipment partway back into the stereo rack.

Turtle turned from his view through the glass, enticed once again by the scent of strawberries.

"Hold this for a sec," Ray said, plugging the cables into the back of the receiver.

Diefenbaker had nosed the carton of orange chicken along the floor to the living room before finishing it. He looked up and watched the two men kneeling alongside each other, putting back the things the thief had removed.

Fraser and Ray hooked everything back up and then stood. Ray turned on the stereo and tuned the radio receiver to an FM radio station. Music quietly filled the room, something with a steady, slow beat.

"Thanks, Fraser," Ray said softly, moving closer.

"You're very welcome," Fraser said a bit unsteadily.

"Think maybe we could, uh, get close like that again, but without the ropes?" Ray whispered.

"I think so, y-yes," Fraser agreed.

"Good," Ray murmured. He cupped Fraser's jaw with both hands and leaned in.

Fraser's hands came up and tightened around Ray's wrists before they slid up his arms to wrap around Ray. The kiss lasted a long time.

Dief walked over to Turtle's tank and peered in at Turtle contentedly munching strawberry slices. Dief's belly was full, his new hard-shelled friend was eating too, and the two men had finally done what their scents had been saying they wanted to for weeks.

Ray and Fraser awkwardly moved to the couch, lips still locked together, and settled heavily onto it.

When their lips finally parted, Ray spoke first.

"Let's keep the window closed," he said.

"Yes, perhaps that's a good idea," Fraser agreed quietly.

"But let's still get under the blanket," Ray added, looking down, then glancing at Fraser through his long lashes.

"Yes, let's," Fraser said, pulling the blanket up from the floor and shaking it out before settling it over both their laps again.

Their mouths came together and their arms wrapped around each other again. There was no noise but the soft sounds of kissing.

And of Dief licking a stray drop of orange chicken sauce from his paw.

And of Turtle eating sliced strawberries.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The potential relentlessness of turtle attacks is visible at <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LwQ4hDsP_jg>  
> (along with similarly surprising videos of turtle ferocity)
> 
> Hong Min's in Chinatown burned down over 10 years ago, but they had a second Palos Hills location (still open) [whose menu is available online](http://www.menupix.com/menudirectory/menu.php?id=1301696). So I used that.
> 
> Turtle's species is never mentioned in canon. So while Fraser would undoubtedly research/discover/state Turtle's species (as a beta pointed out), I left that vague (and it's not relevant to plot/action). Based on the little canon we have (his terrarium is not aquatic; his shell is rather high-domed), I guesstimated Turtle to be a box turtle (commonly sold as pets circa Ray's post-divorce era, 1990s). I got box turtle feeding/care information from [this web site](http://www.turtlecare.net/home/care-sheets/american-box-turtles) and [the Wikipedia article on box turtles](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Box_turtle). I make no claims as to accuracy or completeness! I have shared my life with many critters, but a turtle has not been one of them.
> 
> While writing this, I imagined the song that Ray found on the radio was Bad Company's [Ready For Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1oCbIZyhsk) (Youtube link). The lyrics seem to apply to both Ray's and Fraser's romantic past.


End file.
